


This Impossible Year

by aintitfun



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:19:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintitfun/pseuds/aintitfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everyone wanted me to quiet down and that's what they got." He bit his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut. He promised himself he wouldn't cry about this.</p><p>Or the one where Brendon struggles with the aftermath of a bad decision</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline and ages make no sense at all, but Brendon, Pete, Patrick, and Josh are all in high school. Dallon is in college. Tw for mention on medication, hospitalization, and suicide. Please don't read if you're easily triggered.

I just feel like you could do so much better if you applied yourself." This wasn't the first time Brendon had heard those words, and he was pretty sure it wasn't the last time. "Are you even listening?" Yes and no. He played with a loose piece of string on his tshirt as his guidance counselor questioned him.  

"It's just that he wanted to know if there was a place where all loose strings went to die. Was it better or worse when you yanked them off? Wouldn't the thread still be loose later? How did the thread loosen in the first place? Why did he always have so many on his tshirts? Why did they bother him so much? How- "Brendon, it's time for you to get back to class." His pointless train of thought was interrupted by her frustrated sigh. "Come see me in a week, okay?" He nodded as he gathered up his things. It was stupid and pointless, but required so they wouldn't force him to repeat 11th grade again.

He spent most of his lunch period staring at that fucking loose thread on his shirt. "Hey, B. You okay man?" Pete questioned through a mouth full of fries. Patrick mumbled something about Brendon's appointment being today and to give him space. "Oh, shit. I forgot about that." Pete shot him an apologetic glance and went back to shoveling down his food.

Josh motioned at him during math class, positioning his thumb and forefinger to imitate the tiny little pills Brendon was supposed to be taking. He nodded and Josh shot him a bright eyed smile. Brendon felt the vibrations in his pocket to find a text from Josh simply stating "I'm proud of you dude. I know it's hard right now, but it'll get better." Brendon huffed through his nose at his friends high sense of optimism. If only it were that easy. He fumbled with the loose piece of thread until the end of class.

The only good thing about Friday's was Dallon. He got to spend the whole night with him away from his family's judgmental eyes. He climbed into Dallon's car after school and resisted the urge to pull the older boy's face in his hands. He fumbled with the piece of thread instead. Dallon cocked his head as he shifted the car from park to drive. "You good, B?" He shrugged and stared out the window. Dallon grazed the younger boy's knuckles with his thumb.

Brendon finally began to feel like himself, lying on the floor, shirtless in Dallon's bedroom. "You wanna talk about it?" He felt long fingers dance along his stomach as the words echoed in his head. He was tired of everyone trying to get him to talk about things, to talk about what happened.

"I fucking hate it." Brendon hated how his voice shook. "Everyone's treating me like I'm some fragile piece of glass." His nails left half crescent moons in his palms as he spoke. "I hate these fucking pills. I'm not- I don't feel like myself." Dallon slowly ran his fingers through Brendon's hair. "Everyone wanted me to quiet down and that's what they got." He bit his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut. He promised himself he wouldn't cry about this.

"I like you when you're loud, but you already know that." Dallon planted a chaste kiss to Brendon's forehead.

"Fucking me doesn't count, you asshole." Brendon spoke aggressively but there was no heat behind his words, only muted sadness.

Dallon sighed. "It's not a death sentence you know. It can get better. You just-"

"Oh bullshit!" Brendon sat up, balling a fist in his hair. "This isn't you, okay?! This is my fucking life and I fucked up!" He rocked back and forth, feeling the thread in his control begin to loosen.

Dallon rubbed circles into the younger boy's back. "It's not your fault. You've been through a lot."

The knot in Brendon's throat threatened to melt at his resolve not to cry. "It's all my fault anyway. I should've- I don't know Dal. I just feel like I could have saved him." He shook his head as the tears began to flow from the makeshift dam of his hands onto his scarred wrists.

"Ryan's still alive and so are you and that's all that matters right now." Dallon pulled the sobbing boy to his chest.

"But he's locked up in that...place and I'm here taking these stupid pills just so I can sit still and pretend like I don't want to try and slit my wrists again." Brendon knew that wasn't true, but it felt like an easier option than admitting that he had a problem.

"B, you and I both know that, one, you don't want to die. I hate to say it because I know he was-"

"Is." Brendon cut him off forcefully. "He's not dead, remember?"

"Right. He is your best friend, but that was all his idea." Brendon furrowed his brow. Was it Ryan's idea? He couldn't remember. "And two, you've had ADHD forever. Your parents just never wanted to admit it. They'd rather "pray it away", same as they do with everything else."

He wiped the snot from his face with his arm, attempting to regain his composure. "Where's my shirt? I'm cold."

Dallon handed him an oversized hoodie. "Throw this on for now. You should probably get some rest anyway."

Brendon snorted. "What, are you my mom now?"

Dallon rolled his eyes. "I've gotta have you up and back home before choir practice if you want to keep hanging out with me. You know that."

Brendon let out a tiny sigh as he curled up next to his boyfriend in bed. "I'm sorry that I'm like this."

Dallon grazed Brendon's lower lip with his thumb before pulling him in for a kiss. "Don't be."

Dallon's breath evened out beside him as Brendon played with the loose thread of his hoodie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan wouldn't lie to him, would he? Ryan wouldn't make the wrong decision. He cared about them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of backstory. Tw for suicide, abuse mention, and hospitalization.

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Brendon hated how his voice shook.

"You're my best friend, right? Don't you trust me?" Ryan's voice was gentle and surprisingly controlled in their current situation. He sat in the half full bathtub, fully clothed, clutching a blade between his thumb and forefinger. Brendon audibly gulped. He wanted to trust him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to die. "How else am I going to escape my dad and you from your shitty family?"

Brendon gripped at the hem of his flimsy tshirt. "We could tell someone about your dad. He could go to jail for hurting you probably."

Ryan scoffed. "And then I'd have to live with my mom being pissed at me for letting that happen. She loves him more than she loves me." Brendon knew that was true, but he didn't want to admit it. "C'mon Brendon. Don't let me die alone." He held out his free hand to guide the worried boy into the tub.

Brendon's thoughts swam as the water rose over the edge of the tub. This wasn't right, was it? Maybe it would be okay after it was over. Ryan wouldn't lie to him, would he? Ryan wouldn't make the wrong decision. He cared about them both.

Brendon had been struggling at school so much lately. Teachers badgering him about work he was constantly forgetting to finish or turn in. He told his parents that he was trying, there was just a disconnect in his head, a missing piece that had been lost a long time ago. They told him to pray on it.

He knew Ryan was at his wit's end. He had been on the receiving end of enough frantic phone calls to know that things were getting worse at home. He had learned how to clean up enough cuts and hide bruises so well, he was convinced he should either be an EMT or a makeup artist at this point.

"Brendon, you're lost in your head again. We've gotta do this soon." Ryan handed him a matching blade.

"Yeah, okay." Brendon flipped the blade between his fingertips. "I just..." Ryan glanced up from his intense focus on his wrist. "I'm sorry I couldn't help more."

"So is everyone else." Ryan's voice was void of emotion as he broke eye contact with his friend.

\----

Brendon was woken up by a pair of hands yanking him from the now cold water. His head felt heavy and his vision was blurry. He heard a voice but couldn't find the source. Did God finally decide to show up after he had died? His dripping wet clothes were being ripped from his body and replaced with warm towels. God seemed awfully nice, but it didn't quite feel like heaven.

"Someone call his parents! Jesus, Brendon, what were you thinking?" Dallon. He wasn't exactly God, but close enough.

\----

Brendon ran his thumb over the slowly healing scar on his wrist as they finally explained what happened. "You, um, cut the wrong way. Ryan lost a lot more blood than you did, but he's stable." Brendon bit his lip. Of course he forgot to go vertical instead of horizontal. He can imagine Ryan screaming at him for such a simple mistake.

"Can I see him?" Brendon's voice felt so small.

"They think it's best if you stay away from each other for awhile." Dallon relayed the news as best he could, knowing the younger boy wouldn't be too happy about it.

"That's bullshit." Brendon was angry, but his exhaustion dampened the heat behind his words.

"Your parents put me on the list, so I can come visit once a week." Brendon finally looked up to take in his surroundings. Bland cream walls with hidden safety features along the windows and door handles. How did he get himself into this mess? "I love you so much B. I just want you to get better."

Brendon laughed. "Of course the first time you tell me that you love me is when I'm in a psych ward."

Dallon shook his head. "I'll be back in a week. Stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Me? Trouble? I'd never do such a thing." Brendon faked shock as his boyfriend solemnly left him behind.

He surveyed his bleak surroundings and let out a deep sigh. "There has to be another way."

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be this long and it probably makes no sense. Posted from my phone, so sorry for any mistakes. Comments are cool.


End file.
